Black and grey dotwork mandala with a tree of life at its centre, tattooed on the inner forearm near the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Tree of life mandala on a forearm

Dotwork · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A circular mandala with a tree of life at its centre, its branches and roots drawn in fine lines within a pale inner disc. The outer rings of petal and lace-like motifs are built from dense dotwork stippling and solid black detail. The design fills the width of the forearm and is shown straight on against a white background.

Dotwork Geometric Botanical Forearm Mandala Tree Tree of life Root Circle Petal

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom, the men came with the saws on Monday, and by Tuesday dinner the sycamore on Chapel Green was lying across the road like something dropped. You'll remember it. You carved your initials in its bark the summer before you went off to Malaya, and I told you off for it, and then went and carved mine underneath.

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Mr Haskell from the council says the new bus turning needs the space, and I suppose it does. But he didn't see Dad's face when the roots came up out of the clay, pale and forked and reaching under the pavement as if they'd been looking for water their whole lives. Dad knelt there with his palms flat on the soil and wouldn't let anyone touch it until he had counted the rings on the stump.

He cut a disc from the trunk himself. Inside it the rings spread in rough circles, pale then dark, with the sapwood along the rim thin and frilled like lace. This morning he went at it with a fine chisel and a jar of lamp black, picking out every ring one at a time, and when the light came through the kitchen window it looked as though the whole green square had folded itself up small enough to keep in a pocket.

I've enclosed a rubbing I took with a pencil and tissue paper before he sealed it. Pin it somewhere you can see it, and when the army lets you home, I'll walk you to the empty corner and we can stand where the roots were and argue about who carved deepest. Your loving sister, Nell.